Interpreting Fate
by hello-romeo
Summary: AU We realize things in increments, small steps and quiet rebuttals. And sometimes you’re unsure about this life, or the next, or the next and all you can really do is sit there. Either fighting fate, or learning from it. ShaneMitchie


**So I watched Titanic again and I just got on my laptop to write a couple lines, and it turned into **_**this.**_

**ALSO This story is an AU (Alternate Univerese) so no one is famous, they are in high school.**

**Okay? Okay.**

"Shane?"

"Mitchie?"

She smiled slightly, turning her head so she could see his face. He had an arm thrown casually over his eyes, he could have been sleeping.

"Shane, I just watched Titanic again."

At this he snorted, sitting up a little to look at her frowning face.

"Mitchie, why torture yourself?"

Mitchie's mouth dropped open and she gaped at him comically. "_Torture_? Shane, I happen to _love _that movie.

He sat up completely now, she mimicked him. Shane raised is eyebrows but said nothing for a second.

Then finally, "You cry like a baby while watching it and then you get so depressed afterwards."

"Oh shut up." she cleared her throat, "_Anyways_, I watched Titanic again and I decided I want that, even if my Jack ends up dying when its over."

Shane looked confused, his eyebrows furrowing together so deeply they looked like one.

"You…you want _what _exactly?"

"Love! A love like that! A love so severe I'd risk my life for him! A love so unfathomable that I'd leave my mother and my rich fiancé for him, a love so incredible I would jump off a boat to safety, just to be in his arms again. I want to find my Jack Dawson!"

At this Shane's lips lifted from the corners and he lay back down on the blanket, spreading his arms and closing his eyes.

"And will you be finding this Jack on an enormous cruise ship?"

"I should hope so."

"Well then, Mitchie, one of these days I will take you on an extremely expensive cruise ship so you can find the love of your life, even if he ends up dying in the end."

Mitchie looked at him seriously, bending down so her face was inches from his.

"Do you promise? Do you promise, Shane?"

He nodded. "I promise."

"Humph." she looked down at him and he had no choice but to open his eyes. "But Shane, do you _pinky_ promise?"

She held out her skinny pinky, eyes set in determination.

"Yes, I pinky promise."

And he wound his pinky around hers.

She nodded, evidently satisfied.

"Good, but you know, pinky promises _cannot_ be broken."

"I know," he murmured, keeping his eyes open now and looking up at the nighttime sky. "Which means," he continued, turning to look at her eyes and grinning "that I'll just have to stick around until I follow through."

She smiled at him brightly, that happy, you're-so-amazing-smile that made his heart beat in his throat.

"What a living hell this will be."

--X--

They met not too long ago, a few years, maybe, and she decided right away that she liked him. That she liked him a lot.

And it didn't take him too long to feel the same way, to begin to notice things about her, to like the things she liked, to realize that she had big (_huge, huge, huge_) dreams and that she believed completely that she would accomplish them. But, she needed help. She needed support.

Most of all though, she just needed a friend.

She was a pretty young thing, with hair of brown so straight it could have been a wig and eyes so dark they could have been black. She was small, almost annoyingly so, with tiny hands and feet, a mind that seemed to never stop thinking, and a heart that seemed to never stopped dreaming.

He liked her though, liked the way she laughed or didn't laugh.

He liked the way she loved sad things because it reminded her how fortunate she was and the fact that her nose was always shoved in a book.

He liked that she was a simple girl with simple needs and even simpler wants. The kind of girl who was happy with anything for her birthday or valentines day, so you wouldn't have to try very hard to get her anything nice, but wanted to anyway.

He liked that she was practical, that she didn't believe in love at first sight or even really falling in love, period, unless it was complete and whole and made her feel like "this is it--this is the only man in the world for me."

He liked even more that she hadn't fallen in love yet.

And he knew her too, knew her well.

Mitchie was a child on the inside. She seemed like she was just in a rush to grow up, but he knew. He knew she still wanted to stay a kid and be able to get away with things because she "Oops, didn't know!" and finger paint or sit all day and watch T.V. and be able to just _breathe_, the way only children can.

Sometimes he and Mitchie would take a blanket and lay it out in her backyard and stare up at the stars, like they had the other night.

She liked watching the stars (and he soon discovered that he did too) because she believed so completely that stars were actually people who passed and still had something left to do in this world, but figured it out much too late, and that's why they got stuck In-Between.

Not yet in Heaven, definitely not on earth.

She also completely believed that _that_ was why there were so many of them, because humans figure everything out much too late, because human are the most imperfect species.

But then again, that was the way Mitchie believed in most things--completely.

So really, there was no going against her.

Shane would often just lie there with his eyes closed, listening to her talk (she really liked talking) about this world or the next or the latest song she wrote or how her newest flower bed was doing or about her future.

She talked about her future quite a lot.

Really, Shane didn't think it was entirely healthy for a girl her age (she was only 16, for God's sake) to be so obsessed with her future.

But Mitchie was.

She was obsessed with a great number of things, you see: books and flowers, writing songs and candy, flying and birds, gardening and white houses, flamingos and sunrises, trees and singing…and love.

Falling in love, to be more precise.

"She's a piece of work, alright," his family members were sure to tell him when he introduced her. There was really no point in explaining that they _weren't like that_.

No one would listen anyway.

And maybe that's why people like Shane needed people like Mitchie. Because while she was obsessive and driven and smart and pretty and fiery and small and talkative, he was smug and handsome, and didn't care very much about anything.

Except Mitchie--he cared about her too much.

Because she was just so good at knowing him, at making him feel like he mattered.

She always knew, no matter how much he denied it, when he was sad or lonely. And she knew right away whether to stroke his hair or stay away or be sympathetic, or be angry.

Because, he decided, she was just amazing like that.

--X--

"So I'm going to make sure that I can get the highest marks possible, I mean otherwise I won't get into Stanford, you know?"

He nodded, wondering what a girl like her was still _doing_ in high school.

"How has your studying been going?" she asks this sternly because she knew he doesn't bother with any of that.

Shane smiled toothily down at her, gripping her around the elbow so as not to lose her in the high school crowd.

"I'm _serious_, Shane you have to put your studies first! I mean, if you don't, how will you graduate with top marks or get into a great college or anything else?"

He ignored her and continued on, looking straight ahead.

Mitchie sighed in frustration and tried to keep up, her legs too short and her steps too clumsy.

"I swear," she panted, keeping as close to Shane as possible and shaking her head angrily, "If my children are as short as I am, I'll disown them!"

Shane laughed heartily as they finally made it out of the congested crowd and onto the plush grass, taking their shortcut home.

"You will not _disown_ them, idiot, you'd love them too much, remember?"

Mitchie stuck her tongue out at him, childishly and indignantly but Shane just laughed again, putting an arm easily around her shoulders and pulling her close.

"Shane?"

"Mhmm?" He pressed his mouth against the top of her dark head, not kissing, definitely not kissing.

"Shane, when I grow up I want a huge house…a huge one with a library as big as our school!" she looked up at him, practically glittering with happiness "and I'd love it if there was a music studio in there, too. You know, just in case I get bored with finding the cure for cancer, so that I could take a break and have fun…and oh, a huge window, over looking a pond and backyard…"

He nodded once, squeezing he shoulder.

"And how big will this house be, exactly?"

"Enormous. At _least_ four stories tall."

"Well…Mitchie, one of these days I'll get--"

"Or build," she interrupted.

He smiled "Or _build_ a house for you four stories tall with a library as big as our school that also has a recording studio, if you want to take a break and a huge window and a pond and all that."

She laughed, pressing her face against his chest.

"Do you promise, Shane?" She whispered it in a voice so small he had to bend slightly to hear her.

"Of course I promise."

Mitchie held up her pinky, looking as determined as she always did when they came to this part.

"But do you _pinky_ promise?"

He wound his pinky around hers, thinking they looked quite good that way.

"I do."

"Now, Shane, pinky promises can't be broken, can they?

"No, they can't."

"So I guess that means that you'll just have to be completely stuck to me until you actually manage to get this house."

"Darn."

He stared down at her, once again possessed by her beauty, her innocence. She stared back, just as intrigued.

A moment passed and then teenagers filled in around them, laughing and joking.

"Ooohh.."

To the left of them, Caitlyn and Lola whispered behind cupped hands.

"We're_ not like that_." Mitchie tried to explain to the girls, as Shane took his arm quickly away from her shoulder.

But her friends continued to snicker and whisper and eventually the two of them took to ignoring them like they've been doing a lot recently.

He couldn't really help holding her or doing things like touching her hair or smiling down at her.

Because really, Mitchie was so incredible he had to keep looking down to make sure she was still there.

She's the kind of girl who prefers Cherry Coke to the regular kind just because it has the word _cherry_ in it.

She believes in _magic_, for God's sake and still waits for her Hogwarts letter. She's the only person he's ever known that's scared of _time_, and not having enough of it.

But _ugh_, he just can't seem to stop _staring _at her. Like the way she runs her hand through her hair in frustration or the way she trips over _air_,for God's sake, all helpless and hopeless and _beautiful_.

Who can blame him, really, for promising her the world, the universe, the stars?

And maybe he shouldn't, but she had _dreams,_ and goodness knows he wants to be a part of them more than anything else in the world…

--X--

She had a boyfriend again, and really, he didn't get so annoyed about it anymore.

She has boyfriends often, almost weekly, because she wants to fall in love more than anyone he's ever known.

And because she's beautiful and amazing and perfect and he can't remember the last time she's wanted a guy and didn't get him.

Shane was with his own group of friends today, because people already have suspicions about the two of them being an item and he doesn't want to mess things up with her boyfriends.

But just then she bounds over, slamming into Shane's back in an attempt to shove him in greeting.

Shane doesn't move an inch, Mitchie falls flat on her back.

"Ow…"

Suppressing a laugh, Shane gentlemanly holds his hand out to her.

She ignores it, her pride too huge, and gets up again. Poking her tongue out.

He feels the need to help her anyway, not only for the sake of being a gentlemen, but also because he's hardly touched her all day and that's always been a particularly hard task for him.

"Thanks, Shane," she says and he's pleasantly surprised.

"No problem, Mitch." and she does that adorable nose crinkle thing cause "Oh, god, Shane I absolutely hate that nickname!"

But how can she expect him to stop calling her that when she makes the cutest little faces?

She was really too cute for her own good.

And smart.

And sweet.

And independent.

And _soft_, for God's sake.

"Shane-is-lame, you may release me now."

And he rolled his eyes, cause the girl always had to be the one with the last word, and released her.

"Whatever, Mitch-the--"

But she reaches, up, (_way, way, way_,) up and presses her hand against his mouth.

"Don't you dare! Can't you just use the baby curses, Shane? Must you use the big-kid ones?"

Um, yeah, I must, cause we _are _the big kids, now, Mitchie. He wants to tell her, but he doesn't. Half because her hand is still covering his mouth and half because she looks so damn cute when she reprimands him.

He finally does the only logical thing because she's still looking at him sternly and on-lookers are cooing at the "lovers' spat."

"EWH! SHANE! You licked my hand! Ew, ew, ew, ew, ewwwwwwww."

"You basically set yourself up for that one, Mitchie."

But she doesn't hear him as she hastily wipes her hand on his jeans.

"Your gross Shane, and you know me, I can't be acquainted with gross people." and she walks away from him, with that inexplicable happy, you're-so-amazing-smile.

Because she knew he would follow her.

And for about two fourths of a second, he really truly wondered what would happen if he didn't.

But catching up to her and grabbing her by the waist where he knew she was most ticklish, the thought was thrown out the window almost immediately.

Because he would never know a day, in this life or the next, when he wouldn't follow her.

--X--

It was on a Monday night, at exactly 2:47 in the morning, that Shane discovered he was completely and irreversibly in love with Mitchie Torres.

There was a small banging against his closed window, the kind of small banging only small fists made and he was immediately alert.

The clock on the bedside table read 2:10, and then the numbers contorted into letters that read 'Go Back To Sleep, Shane'

Groggy but determined, he stumbled ungracefully to his window, sliding it open.

Almost immediately Mitchie tumbled off the tree and into his bedroom, landing with an audible _thump_.

He helped her up, ignoring her attempts to push him off and led her to his bed.

She sat on it shyly, for reasons he wasn't entirely sure of. Mitchie had been in his room before, at daytime and at night, so what was with the fumbling fingers and blush-y cheeks?

He was just about to ask her, (well, more like demand, really) when she opened her mouth.

"Shane?" Mitchie asked softly, and he stopped running his hand through is hair and faced her completely "Can I tell you something sort of stupid?"

He was completely skeptical that anything she had to say was stupid, considering how ridiculously intelligent she was, but he stared at her anyway, with that concern he doubted anyone else could ignite in him.

"What is it, Mitchie? Tell me."

"Oh, Shane…I…"

He was at her side in an instant, plopping down next to her and putting his hand on top of hers.

"Mitchie." The seriousness in his voice was evident now, so was the worry, such worry he thought he might choke on it.

"Shane, I don't think I want to go to…Stanford…anymo…"

Her voice broke on the last word and he pressed her whole body to his. Mitchie wasn't crying yet, but she was dry sobbing quite hard and he just felt so guilty, as if it were all his fault.

"Why, Mitchie? Tell me why?"

"Shane…I…"

Then she was looking up at him tearfully and he suddenly didn't want to know anymore, he just wanted to hold her and make all the hurt go away.

But Mitchie answered him anyway, just like he knew she would.

"I think…I think I want to sing Shane. I think I really want to…to sing."

It was such an extraordinary thought for Michelle, Mitchie, Mitch to be saying something like that, to be saying it like she thought she couldn't do it, that he hugged her even tighter and pulled her down onto the bed with him, so they were both laying down.

And he laughed (not at her, never at her) but at the thought that she _couldn't _do something.

She was Mitchie.

Didn't she know she was Mitchie?

Mitchie could do _anything_, including leaving everything else behind and singing as a career.

She laughed with him, it was a small giggle at first, but then got louder and louder, until they were shushing each other, telling each other that his parents were right downstairs, idiot.

"You can do it, Mitchie," He whispered when their laughter finally subsided "You can do anything."

She grinned at him and said, just as quietly "I know how to do it, too, Shane. Its called Camp Rock. And I'm going."

"Camp Rock." her tested the words on his lips, and decided he liked them as long as Mitchie did.

"Then I promise you, Mitchie, that I will find a way to get you there this summer."

"What about my mother?" she asked, and that almost unheard of doubt returned in her voice "I don't think she would approve…"

Her breath fanned against his face as she spoke and it was only then that he noticed what a compromising position they were in.

"It's fine, Mitchie" his voice was different, hoarse, because the fact that her leg was splayed across his own was getting rather distracting.

He cleared his throat. "I promised, didn't I?"

"Do you pinky promise, though?"

He took her pinky for the first time without her offering it.

"I pinky promise that I will get you to Camp Rock this summer."

She nodded once, evidently satisfied and pressed her face against his chest.

"You are so amazing, Shane Grey."

And maybe he was.

But compared to her?

Well, compared to Mitchie and her huge dreams and small fists and little insecurities, he considered himself anything but.

So when she fell asleep that on him night, he stroked her long hair, Shane thought about Camp Rock and how to get her there.

And he thought about it so hard, he actually wondered why he bothered.

But then, looking down a Mitchie, Mitchie with her beautiful voice and raw talent and unnecessary concern, her realized that he loved her, and that was why.

And actually admitting it should have bothered him to some extent.

Except it didn't, it sounded right.

--X--

Shane watched out of the corner of his eye as Mitchie changed her position on the blanket, she was laying flat on her back now and staring at the stars with such fever he was surprised they didn't explode.

"What?"

Mitchie looked at him, grinning.

"I think I wanna go there, Shane," She pointed upwards. "To the _stars_."

He rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming next.

"Do you want to get there metaphorically, or tangibly?" He asked sarcastically

She snorted, and maybe it should have sounded gross, but it didn't.

It sounded cute, Shane decided.

"I just want to get there."

He nodded once. "Then I'll get you there." he turned to her slightly "I promise."

Mitchie held out her pinky, no words needed to be exchanged--Shane took it.

After a second, however, he let go of it and entwined their fingers. Mitchie didn't say anything, she just gave his fingers a squeeze.

--X--

"Shane, lets go to the beach. Do you want to?"

He looked up from his text book and almost-glared at her. "You're the one that forced me to study, and now you want to go gallivanting off to the beach? In the middle of the night?"

She beamed at him, the grin made his heart thud a little faster.

"But see? You just properly used the word 'gallivant' in a sentence! And middle of the night? Puh-lease, Shane, it's like 10."

He closed the book, it's not like he was studying for himself anyway and got to his feet.

"To the beach."

--X--

Shane pressed his hand against her back, guiding her through the crowd.

"Oh, God, oh God, oh God"

Shane rolled his eyes slightly, "Calm down, Mitchie."

"I cant, I am so excited!"

She was smiling (_brilliant and amazing and wide_) and Shane was suddenly so happy he had gotten her the tickets.

"I mean, I've wanted to go to this concert forever and now I'm here!"

Then, just as suddenly and as happily she was bouncing around, she stopped. Shane stopped as well, and tried to get her moving again because people were yelling at them for blocking the way and making rude hand gestures.

"Mitchie, we have to move, like right now, I get that you're nervous and everything, but..."

He looked down just then, and she was looking straight up at him, with that inexplicable you're-so-amazing smile of hers.

"I've wanted to go to this concert forever…" she repeated, "and now I'm here….because of you…"

She looked at him with such genuine realization, he really wondered if he should get her to a hospital. It was no big deal, he knew a guy and the price of the tickets were reasonable.

"Shane Grey, you are so incredible."

And then her arms were around his neck and she was hugging him so tightly he was sure his neck would break, but he held her back, enjoying every second of it. They only broke apart when a particularly rude man called

"Get a room, ya horny teenagers!"

And Mitchie pulled away, blushing prettily.

"Come on," Shane said "I'll get you a Cherry Coke."

"Promise?"

"_Pinky_ promise."

Mitchie laughed the musical, whimsical laugh he had fallen in love with over and over and entwined their pinkies.

And their pinkies stayed entwined, all through the night.

--X--

As 'Iris' by the 'Goo Goo Dolls' played in the background, Mitchie played with Shane's hair.

"_And I'd give up forever to touch, you_" Mitchie sang, "_Cause I know that you feel me somehow. You're the closest Heaven that I'll ever feel and I don't wanna go home right now_."

As usual, Shane had his eyes closed while she was singing, listening as hard as he could.

It was another night out in the stars, another night of Shane and Mitchie, best friends forever, another night of warm Cherry Cokes and singing and talking and laughing and touching.

And this thing they had, the friends-slash-sometime-more-than-friends-thing they had going should have annoyed Shane, but it didn't. because Mitchie was happy right now, and she was singing with her beautiful voice and her tiny hands were playing with his hair, it was perfect. He could have died from happiness right there.

But in the next moment, she stopped. Stopped playing with his hair, stopped sing.

Shane opened his eyes and looked up at her, his head was in her lap and she was looking up, he could see her nostrils and thought they were the cutest things.

"What?" he asked quietly, because right now talking loud just seemed wrong.

"Look," she whispered back, she pointed at the old Sycamore tree, which over the course of the last few months had been rotting.

Shane didn't see anything at first, just bare branches and a bended trunk and a tree he used to play on as a child dying away.

But squinting and focusing a little closer, he could see a small, miniscule, almost nonexistent spot of pink.

"It's hardly alive," Mitchie said as the last cords of Iris faded away, "and it's still trying to make something beautiful. Like it's trying to show anything worth showing before it's too late."

Shane didn't understand her, he hardly ever did, but he allowed her to slide his head off of her lap as she continued to stare at the little pink dot, completely transfixed.

"I want it."

She whispered it like a child and if her face wasn't set so seriously, he might have laughed.

But right now, Shane was at a complete loss, to get her that tiny, almost non-existent flower, he'd have to climb all the way up that tree, and not crush it in his large hands, but for Mitchie, anything.

But when he looked up, she was already half way up the tree, he was so surprised at the insane thumping of his heart that he called out without thinking.

"Mitchie! _No_! Get down!"

He was scared, beyond scared, terrified, she was just a little thing, what if she--

But no, he couldn't even think such a horrible thought he needed to get her down right now. It was just a stupid little bloom, he'd buy her a hundred flowers, a thousand, a million if she wanted she just need to get down.

And he told her all that, about the stupid bloom and the millions of flowers he'd be willing to get her, but she just called down seven strained words that broke his heart.

"I need to do this by myself!"

Except she didn't, she didn't need to do anything by herself, ever, because she had him, she had Shane and he'd do anything for her without thinking.

He called that up to her too.

"Let me do it, Mitchie! Please let me do it for you, get down right now!"

"I'll be fine, Shane!"

But even as she said it he knew she wouldn't, because it was an old rotting tree and even though she old weighed about 9 ounces, she still weighed something and he wasn't just going to stand down there worrying while she may as well have been risking her neck over a damn flower on a damn dying tree.

"I'm coming up, Mitchie, I'm gunna get you down!"

The first step was the easiest, but as he climbed higher and higher, it got so much more difficult. The tree was slippery, for one, and it was completely un-sturdy. It shook violently as he climbed hard and fast to reach Mitchie before anything happened to her.

He wasn't looking anywhere but at his destination. That was probably why he was having such difficulty, sometimes his hands would grasp nothing but air and his heart would lurch unexpectedly for the fear of falling.

But that never stopped him from looking straight up at her until finally (_finally, finally, oh god, finally_) he had reached the spot where she was perched.

She was holding the flower in her hands delicately and still looking at it like it was the most amazing thing in the world, and for Mitchie's sake, it better had be because Shane was half in tears by the time he reached her.

"You are so _stupid_, Mitchie Torres!"

She looked at him half heartily and stuck her tongue out.

"I had to do it."

He didn't ask her why, instead he decided to give her a piece of his mind. But first, he had to get her down. And just as that thought crossed his mind, there was a low, almost sad groan as the branch she was sitting on began cracking.

"Oh my God!"

Shane wasted no time in grabbing her roughly and pulling her to him. That wasn't the best idea either, he realized for their combined weight sent them tumbling down, scraping themselves on the decaying bark until finally landing in crumpled head on the wet grass.

"Ughh…" Mitchie groaned from beside him, where she lay flat on her back and after firmly making sure she was okay, Shane wasted no time in hugging her as hard as he could.

"You're so stupid! You idiot, just for that little thing. Don't ever do that again, Mitchie, don't you ever do that again. I'll get you another sycamore tree, a dying one if you want, just don't…I can't…"

He pulled away slightly, an looked down at her shining eyes.

"I'm sorry." She said finally, and just like that, Shane kissed her--so quickly she might have imagined it, and pulled away, instantly missing her lips.

"What if you had fallen and broken your neck?" he asked softly "What then? I'll tell you what then, then you'd never get to go on a cruise ship and find the love of your life or that enormous house with the music studio. And you'd never get to go to Camp Rock! We spent weeks working out a script to ask your mom and you'd never get to go. And what about the stars?" he whispered, kissing her cheek, her chin, her neck "How were you planning on getting there?"

He kissed her again, this time longer and more urgently, her lips were so warm, so warm and soft and he could have kissed them for years, but alas, air.

And when he pulled away, looking slightly drunk, Mitchie had that you're-so-amazing smile on and it seemed like for the first time, things would be absolutely perfect between them.

"The stars? Oh, Shane, I'm already there."

And then she kissed him.

And Mitchie with the deep, dark hair and stunning smiles and beautiful voice and scraped knees realized with the jolt of all jolts that she had spent so much of her life aimlessly looking for love, when the only love really worth finding was the handsome face, and guiding hands and patient sighs and the receiving end of all those pinky promises right in front of her, kissing her like his life depended on it.

--X--

**I'm very 'eh' about the ending. **

**Feedback would be nice.**


End file.
